


Got a Real Good Feelin' (Somethin' Bad About to Happen)

by just-a-pleb-les (Phoenix314)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Lexa Mechanic, Modern AU, Road Trip, clarke is a bit of a hot mess, lexa is too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix314/pseuds/just-a-pleb-les
Summary: Pulled up to the church but I got so nervousHad to back it on up couldn’t make it to the serviceGrabbed all the money underneath my mattressGot a real good feelin’ somethin’ bad about to happenRan into a girl in a pretty white dressRolled down a window, where you headed to next?Said I’m headin’ to the bar with the money out the mattressGot a real good feelin’ somethin’ bad about to happen--"Something Bad" by Miranda Lambert featuring Carrie UnderwoodOr, Clarke is a run away bride and Lexa is her knight in glossy black, two strangers who take a road trip to New Orleans.





	1. Here is the Church and Here is the Steeple

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Inspired by the awesome song "Somethin' Bad" by Miranda Lambert featuring Carrie Underwood. Seriously, I suggest listening to that song before reading this fic.

"Here is the church, here is the steeple

Open the doors and see all the people.

Here's the parson going up stairs.

And here is is saying his prayers."

-"Here's the Church" Nursery Rhyme

 

Clarke had been through an out of body experience before. Once. She was only sixteen when her father died. Suddenly. Quickly. Looking back on it, as she tried to keep herself tethered to the ground, she wondered if it would have been worse if it had been a slow death. Not painful, but one that they had all seen coming. Would her life be any different now? What would her father have chosen to say in his last moments with her? Would his words have changed the course of her future, perhaps preventing what was about to happen?

He was the smartest and most loving person she had ever known and in the months and years following his death, Clarke often asked herself what her dad would say about how she’d spent the last decade; about the certain decisions she’d made or not made; actions she’d taken and ones she had passed on. Often times, she would be able to piece it together, what his most likely response would be to her endless list of questions. It was like following a baking recipe. Five cups of logic, three tablespoons of foresight, dice up one large “ignore what everyone else is saying, what do you want?”, a handful of compassion, and a pinch of cunning. Then hand mix everything with determined strokes, bake with patience and, finally, just eat the damn thing.

That’s what she was trying to do currently. Part of her mind was telling her this was normal. It was her wedding day. It’s natural that amidst the celebrating and planning and trying to keep her mom from crying at every possible moment, she would be thinking of her dad and what he’d say to her during such a momentous occasion. The problem was that her mind also knew that his words wouldn’t be the response a girl would want to hear on her wedding day.

Finn was a good man. He was everything anyone would want in a partner. He’s handsome, intelligent, compassionate, forgiving, polite, encouraging of her aspirations and goals, and has enough backbone to weather Clarke’s most stubborn moments. Her mother adored him and Clarke’s friends were always saying how they were so happy for her—that they were the perfect couple.

So why was her heart and mind, in sync for the first time in what seems like a lifetime, aggressively screaming together in unison?

“THIS ISN’T RIGHT!”

This couldn’t be cold feet. Clarke stood in the narthex of the church, frozen to the ground, but she felt hot. Like fire was flickering beneath her skin. Music began echoing throughout the building, but all Clarke could hear was the roaring of the flames in her chest telling to run. Just run.

Clarke turned her sky blue eyes to the man next to her. Marcus Kane, Abby’s husband of five years. She had agreed to let him walk her down the aisle. Not to replace her dad. “I could never do that, Clarke.” But she couldn’t think of a reason not to let him do it. He was a kind, good man who had made her mom happy again. She had never once harbored any ill will towards him. Which is why, later, she would feel a little guilty for embarrassing the Governor in front of hundreds of people, including his constituents and fellow politicians.

“Clarke?”

Marcus looked worried. Clarke’s inner turmoil must be showing on her face, but she didn’t have the strength to school her features. Marcus continued to speak, but Clarke couldn’t hear him anymore. Instead, a voice that suspiciously sounded like her father’s whispered to her.

“Get out. Now.”

Clarke picked up the bottom of her dress and ran out of the church like the Devil himself was chasing her.

She could hear them calling her name. Marcus at first, then Abby, Raven, Bellamy, Wells. She didn’t turn around. She ran down the stairs, cursing her four inch heels as she went. When she reached the sidewalk, Clarke realized that she didn’t have a way to get anywhere. Tendrils of panic began to slowly weave their way through her rib cage. She could barely think.

“Clarke!”

She turned and saw Finn at the doorway of the church, frozen with shock. Confused. Hurt. She couldn’t look at him, standing there looking perfect in his tailored tuxedo. She couldn’t look at what she was doing to him. A loud rumble of an engine caused Clarke to turn around and slowing to a stop at the intersection in front of the church was a solid, glossy black muscle car. Before she could talk herself out of it, Clarke sprinted to the car, knocking on the passenger window before the driver could get away.

A window rolled down as people started pouring out of the church.

If Clarke was in her right mind, she would have been surprised to see that the driver was a woman. Long, wild brown locks cascaded down her back and her perfectly chiseled features were partially hidden behind a pair of aviators. One eyebrow arched up over the sunglasses and her lips curved into a sardonic smirk.

Her voice was smooth, low, and slow. Like they were discussing the weather and not realizing that Clarke was reenacting a scene from _Runaway Bride_. “Where you headed to?”

Clarke’s eyes were wide and pleading, her own voice sounded near begging. “Can you get me out of here? Please?”

The driver glanced around Clarke and saw the guests standing on the steps. A woman with looks strikingly similar to the blonde outside her car was making her way to the front of the crowd, frantically calling out the name Clarke.

The driver chuckled at how ridiculous her life just got in the span of a few seconds and looked back at the woman with a short jerk of her head.

“Get in.”

Clarke felt relief flood through her as she got into the car, pulling the last bit of the train of her dress in with her. She refused to look back as the woman behind the wheel stepped on the accelerator, gunning the engine so hard that Clarke was flown back into her seat, instinctively grasping the grip handle for dear life. She looked at the driver like she was crazy, her expression demanding an explanation.

She saw the driver’s cheek move up, like she was winking at Clarke from behind her dark sunglasses. “Figured we’d go for the dramatic exit.”

The blonde slowly smiled and then began laughing ridiculously hard, tears prickling in her eyes. When she finally stopped, she ran her fingers through her hair only to have them caught on the veil that was still on her head. Clarke pulled the veil off and looked at it, then took a deep breath and threw it out the window.

She was feeling so many things at once that she almost forgot about the other person in the car—her savior. Clarke looked up when the woman spoke again.

“What?” she asked, blinking stupidly.

The woman snickered softly, her laugh sounding like a softer version of the rumbling engine of her car. “I said you never answered my question.” Clarke raised her eyebrows at the woman, unsure of what she meant. The woman, seamlessly shifting the gear stick as they were rocketing away from the church, repeated herself. “I asked, where you heading to?”


	2. Where the Streets Have No Name

"I wanna run, I want to hide  
I wanna tear down the walls  
That hold me inside  
I wanna reach out  
And touch the flame  
Where the streets have no name" 

-"Where the Streets Have No Name" by U2

 

 

The whole situation was awkward. Lexa knew that; Clarke knew that. It was painfully obvious in the silence of the car, only broken by the occasional direction Clarke gave to the driver. They were on their way to Clarke and Finn’s apartment, according to the blonde.

Lexa pulled to a stop in front of an apartment complex, shifting the car into park.

“Well,” the brunette said with painful awkwardness.

When Clarke didn’t run from the car right away, she looked at Clarke questioningly, wondering why this woman wasn’t racing out of her car and away from the thick atmosphere.

“I know I don’t have the right to ask you for another favor,” Clarke started, her hands wringing together from nerves. “But I need to get out of this dress.” This time both eyebrows shot up over the aviators. “This dress took three people to get me into and I can’t get out of it by myself. Since everyone I know is back at the church…” She let the sentence end, hoping the woman would understand what she was trying to ask.

“You want me to come up to your apartment with you and undress you?” Lexa clarified with a slow and incredulous tone. She could see that Clarke wanted to correct her, to try and justify how crazy it sounded, but it seemed like she couldn’t think of a way to do it and just shrugged. Lexa scoffed, not negatively, but out of disbelief. “Yeah, okay. Um...can I leave the car here? I don’t want it to get towed or a ticket.”

Clarke exhaled with relief. “Yeah, it’ll be fine. Hopefully this won’t take too long.”

That’s how Lexa found herself standing in some stranger’s apartment, her hands tucked into her black jeans, awkwardly looking around the bedroom as Clarke grabbed some clothes to change into.

“I won’t be long,” the blonde stated from inside her walk in closet. “Just make yourself at home, er.” She stuck her head out of the closet, a sheepish grin gracing her face. “You know, I never actually got your name.”

“Lexa,” the brunette said, still finding this whole situation insane.

“Well, make yourself at home, Lexa.”

“Right,” the brunette muttered as she glanced around the place. It was tastefully decorated with beautiful artwork hanging on the walls and green plants scattered about to counter the white modern decor.

Clarke returned moments later with a pair of jeans and a tank top to combat the unusually warm weather for mid-May in Seattle.

“So, there’s a zipper and a lot of buttons hidden among the lace and beads,” Clarke explained as she turned her back to Lexa, pulling her long hair aside.

“Right.” Lexa let the word hang there and cleared her throat, raising her hands to the back of the gorgeous strapless dress that looks like it costs more than her car is worth. She tried to find all the fastenings, but it was difficult enough that Lexa could easily see why it took three people to get this thing on. “It would take a team of surgeons to take this thing off,” she muttered, but not low enough.

Clarke chuckled. “Ironically, my mother is a surgeon and she said something similar this morning while I was getting ready.” Her laughter stopped abruptly, remembering her situation.

Lexa hummed as she found the first few buttons. She hated the stilted silence and decided to keep the conversation going. “So, can I ask what happened?” Clarke let out a long sigh and the brunette immediately regretted asking. “Sorry, it’s really none of my business. It’s just that this wasn’t how I expected my morning going.”

It was a few moments before Clarke spoke. “Have you ever had a moment where you realized everything you were doing was wrong?”

Lexa paused in her movements, taken aback by the question. “How do you mean?”

“Like, you’ve been struck by the idea that everything going on in your life was wrong. Like you are living someone else’s life and you are suddenly and violently pulled back into reality,” she explained.

“I can’t say that I have,” Lexa answered honestly.

“Well, that’s what just happened. There I am, about to marry this amazing guy anyone would be lucky to spend their life with when I realized that everything I’ve been doing for almost a decade has been wrong,” Clarke said, her words coming out quicker and quicker with each second. As if she needed to get it off her chest. “The wrong school, the wrong major, the wrong career, the wrong guy—everything. This isn’t supposed to be my life. And it’s like the wedding bells woke me up to that and I had to get out of there before making one more mistake, one that would be the biggest regret of my life.”

Lexa was silent, unsure of what to say, as she unclasped the last button and pulled the zipper all the way down. She turned her eyes away respectfully as Clarke shimmied out of the dress and began changing.

“What will you do now with this realization?” Lexa asked.

“I’m not sure,” Clarke answered. “Finn and I were supposed to head out to Barcelona for our honeymoon tomorrow night.” That’s when Lexa saw five suitcases packed in the corner of the bedroom, packed and ready to go. “I can’t stay here. Everyone I know was at the wedding and I can’t face them. I just can’t, especially not Finn or my mother. They’ll probably be here really soon looking for me. I need to get out of town, but not to Barcelona; I won’t insult Finn any more than I already have. I need to be anywhere other than here. I just need time and space to think. Or not think. I just need to get away.”

Lexa, again, was at a loss for words. Nowhere in life did she learn what to say to a distraught almost bride who wanted to escape her life.

Clarke had finished changing and Lexa turned, hardly recognizing her. She had looked stunning before—the insanity of the situation aside, Lexa wasn’t blind to how gorgeous Clarke had looked in her dress—but now she just looked like a normal woman in her mid-twenties. A beautiful one, to be sure, but less like something out of a fairy tale and more like someone on her way to have a casual lunch with friends.

“What about you?” Clarke asked, pulling Lexa from her musings.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, before I rudely asked for you to save me from the most disastrous moment of my life, were you headed anywhere in particular?”

Lexa blinked, taken aback by the attention suddenly put on her. “Oh, er, well I’m actually on my way out of the city. I’m moving to New Orleans and decided to drive down there.”

“Wow. That’s quite a location change.”

“Yeah,” Lexa replied, not sure what else to say.

They stood there in awkward silence again. Clarke was chewing her lip again, brow drawn together like she was thinking too hard.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times. Lexa raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other woman to speak.

“You said you’re driving to New Orleans?” Clarke blurted out.

Lexa answered slowly. “Yes.”

The blonde’s hands were wringing together again and Lexa absently worried she was going to break one she was being so rough with them. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t have any plans and nowhere to go. So, I mean, I am wondering if, maybe—”

“Wait a minute, you’re kidding, right?” Lexa asked, her brain finishing Clarke’s question. A lip was being stabbed by Clarke’s teeth once again.

“I’m not. I told you that I need to get away and I’ve never been to New Orleans before.”

Lexa stared at Clarke in disbelief, absolutely shocked and wondered just how sane this woman was. “Clarke, you don’t even know me.”

“You were kind enough to rescue me when you had every right to keep driving and ignore the desperate woman knocking on your window. How horrible of a person could you be?” she countered. “Come on. I need to go somewhere I’ve never been before, where no one will recognize me. Some place where the streets have no name.”

Lexa looked at the woman incredulously. “Did you just quote U2 at me to get me to let you come with me to New Orleans?” She let out a scoff of exasperation and ran her fingers through her hair. “Never mind. Look, I don’t know you. All I know is you’re having some kind of quarter life crisis and somehow feel comfortable asking a stranger if she can join her for a three day road trip. Do you think that makes me feel very safe?”

Clarke opened her mouth to counter, but then visibly deflated. Her shoulders sunk in towards themselves and she suddenly looked small and defeated. Lexa kicked herself for being so harsh, but there was some truth to her words. She felt for the woman, truly, but spending at least three days in the car with an absolute stranger wasn’t the wisest decision one could make. It would be absolutely crazy to agree, even crazier than to be the one asking.

The blonde nodded understandingly, her eyes downcast. “Of course not. I’m sorry, Lexa, that was silly to ask. You’re right. We don’t know each other at all. We could both be serial killers for all we know.”

Lexa wasn’t sure what to say exactly. She thought for a moment about what to do or say to help this woman. Finally, an idea came to her. “How about this: I’ll drive you to the airport. From there you can go wherever you want, even to New Orleans.”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. She looked back up at Lexa with a small, but grateful smile. “That sounds good.”

“Do you have any money? You didn’t exactly leave the church with a bag.”

Clarke’s blue eyes light up with an idea. She leaves the room and Lexa, not sure of what else she should do, follows her into a small study that had one desk in it with a laptop, a printer, and a few books and papers in it. Clarke is rummaging through a drawer in the desk, pulling out random files and some extra printer paper.

“Aha!” she exclaims, having found what she’s looking for. It was a small envelope. She opens it up and what spills out makes Lexa’s eyes bug out of her skull.

“What the hell?”

Clarke looks up with a shrug. “My grandma, before she died, told me that I had to always have a stash of cash hidden away in case of an emergency and made me promise to do so. Probably having something to do with growing up during the Depression. She gave me a thousand dollars in cash for that purpose alone. I’ve stored some money she left me in her will in a bank account separate from my other checking and savings account.” She pulled out a debit card from inside the envelope. “No one knows I have it. I wasn’t really sure what I would use it for, but now seems like an emergency of some kind.”

Lexa is still looking at Clarke in utter disbelief when Clarke goes back into her bedroom and comes out with a roller suitcase and a wallet she was double checking had her ID in it. She then grabbed a piece of paper from a magnetic notepad on the fridge. Lexa saw her write a note and then set her engagement ring next to it. Clarke stood there for a moment, staring at the ring forlornly. Lexa remained quiet and still, not wanting to interrupt her moment.

After several moments, she turned to Lexa. “Ready?”

“Er, yeah. I’m ready. You sure you want to do this? What about your family? Won’t they be worried?”

“I’ll contact them when I land wherever I decide to go and let them know I’m safe.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go.”

The drive to the airport was filled with Clarke’s nervous energy. Her left knee bounced up and down frantically and Lexa began to seriously worry about whether Clarke’s lips would stay attached to her face with how much she was pulling at them with her teeth. To alleviate some of her nerves, Clarke decided to…chat.

“So where do you think I should go? I’ve never just decided to spontaneously go somewhere. And I guess I have the option to go anywhere. Where does one go on vacation alone? I’ve always wanted to go to Rome and see all the amazing artwork there. But that’s pretty far away and I don’t know if I want to leave the country by myself. That’s not exactly very safe. But when will I ever have the opportunity to do whatever I want and go wherever I want again? I hope I don’t get lonely. What if I’m not the type who vacations alone well? What if I spend thousands of dollars on a trip that I hate?”

Lexa tried to speak, but gave up after the first few questions. Clarke had been through a pretty emotionally rough morning and the brunette decided to just let her go. She ignored the nudging in her chest to take back her rejection of Clarke’s request to join her.

Lexa isn’t what one would call impulsive or driven solely by her heart. She’s not heartless, but she’s also not completely led by logic. She tries to do what she feels is right, both logically and emotionally. Right now, that’s doing nothing for her. She can’t let some stranger join her for three days in a car. Clarke’s not exactly emotionally stable at the moment. But part of Lexa feels guilty for encouraging Clarke to go through this difficult time alone. She knows that she doesn’t owe the blonde anything, but she clearly doesn’t have anyone else right now.

 _What if something happened to her wherever she ends up?_ _What if she got hurt or robbed or worse?_ Lexa couldn’t help but wonder. While not responsible for Clarke’s actions, she was the one who told her to jet off anywhere around the globe, everyone else be damned. And while she is sure Clarke can take care of herself, she still couldn’t help but imagine the worst happening and knowing she’d feel partially responsible.

Before Lexa could think on it further, they had arrived at the drop off point at the airport. The brunette turned to Clarke, readying herself to say goodbye to the crazy runaway bride who completely turned her day upside down.

“Well, good luck, I guess,” Lexa said lamely.

Clarke looked at her with an unreadable expression. Suddenly, Lexa was enveloped in the arms of the blonde, the smell of lavender assaulting her senses. Clarke’s hug didn’t last very long, but Lexa felt the gratitude she was giving through it.

Clarke pulled away after a moment, her eyes thick with tears. “Thank you, Lexa. I mean it. This was probably one of the kindest things someone’s ever done for me and you did it for a stranger. I know you said we don’t know each other, but I can tell you’re a good person. Not just anyone would do what you have done for me. So, truly, thank you.”

Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly overcome with emotion. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat as she tried to get herself together. “Of course, Clarke. And you’ll figure things out. You were smart enough to realize you were about to make a big mistake. You’ll figure out what you really want.”

Clarke nodded and Lexa sincerely hoped thing worked out for the blonde. Clarke gave one last smile to Lexa and exited the car, grabbing her suitcase from the backseat.

Before the runaway bride took more than two steps from the car, Lexa called out to her through the window. Clarke turned and put her head through the window. The brunette took off her aviators. “If you end up in New Orleans some time, look for me at Woods Auto Mechanic. It’s where I’ll be working.”

The genuine smile that lit up Clarke’s face temporarily dazzled Lexa, but she heard the blonde thank her and for her to drive safely. Then she was gone, walking towards the ticket counter.

Lexa let out a deep breath. Her day had not gone in anyway close to what she thought it would. She looked at the clock and saw that it was almost two in the afternoon. She had hoped to be on the road for at least a few hours by now. She glanced back through the airport doors and felt a tug in her chest when she saw the blonde still standing at the counter, alone, with suitcase next to her.

The brunette then stared at the steering wheel so hard she was sure it was going to combust. After a long moment, she came to a decision.

“Fuck it,” she whispered to herself. She put the car in park and shot out of her car, ignoring the calls of security telling her she can’t leave her car there. Lexa quickly ran until she was just inside the airport and called out Clarke’s name.

The blonde turned around, her eyes wide with shock at seeing Lexa in the doorway of the airport. She quickly made her way to Lexa.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, looking worried.

Lexa could scarcely believe she was doing this. “Do you still want to go to New Orleans?”

“What?”

“I love my car to an unhealthy degree, I am not a morning person in any way, and I tend to drive like a maniac sometimes. But if you want to join me, you can.”

Clarke blinked several times, staring at Lexa with her mouth open. Before she could reply, a security officer interrupted them.

“Ma’am, you need to get back into your car and move it or I’ll be forced to arrest you and tow your car.”

Blue eyes took one last glance at green ones before turning to the officer. “I’m sorry Officer, there’s been a mix up. My friend would like me to save money on a plane ticket. We’ll be leaving now. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

The man nodded sternly. “Be sure to leave immediately.” And then he walked away.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Clarke asked Lexa. The brunette smiled, feeling much more at ease with this decision.

“I am. Call me crazy, but maybe you’ll be a good road trip partner.”

Clarke laughed, also looking far more at ease than she had since she ran from the church and blew into Lexa’s car like a tornado of lace and taffeta.

“I hope so, Lexa. Come on. Ready to have some fun?”

Lexa grinned and grabbed Clarke’s suitcase and they walked back to her car.

 _This is either going to be an awesome adventure or one massive mistake_ Lexa thought as they pulled away from the airport.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally this won't be updated so quickly guys, but I actually have a day off today, which is pretty rare. I'll try to update as often as possible.
> 
> Tumblr link: [the-gayest-pathfinder](http://the-gayest-pathfinder.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Don't forget to comment or leave a kudos if you liked it and thanks to those who have :) Till next time!


	3. She'll Shake You to Idaho

"Oh, people on the outside lookin' in  
Mother Nature shakes, what then, what then?  
Oh, people on the outside lookin' through  
she'll shake you to Idaho, that's what she'll do "

-"Idaho" by Train

 

“So, Lexa.”

Three hours into the drive and neither woman had said much. They were getting closer and closer to the Washington—Oregon border and Clarke still wasn’t sure what to make of the mysterious driver. Their conversation so far had consisted of Lexa explaining to Clarke the path she had decided to take to New Orleans. Next stop was Boise, Idaho in about four hours, where they’d stay the night before continuing the next day. Both women seemed to be unsure how to go about this new and sudden companionship, but Clarke hadn’t let nerves get in the way before and she was sick of the silence inside the car.

“Yes, Clarke?” Lexa replied, not once glancing at the blonde.

“What’s the plan?”

“The plan?”

Clarke huffed, wondering if the other woman was being difficult on purpose. “Yes, the plan. For this road trip.”

Before answering, Lexa expertly maneuvered around a van with, Clarke counted, three screaming kids in the backseat and one frazzled dad white knuckled at the steering wheel. “Well, it takes about three days to drive from Seattle to New Orleans, maybe four if we hit a lot of bad construction and traffic, but it shouldn’t be too bad—”

Clarke cut Lexa off before she kept going, waving her hands dramatically to silence her. “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” She shifted her body so she was completely facing Lexa, one leg tucked under a knee to get semi-comfortable. “You’re telling me that you are planning on driving from Seattle to New Orleans…and that’s it? You aren’t going to stop along the way?”

“I’m not on a vacation, Clarke. I am moving so I can start my new job later next week.”

Clarke bit her lip, not wanting to annoy her savior, but also wanting to take advantage of a spontaneous road trip.

“You said you’re going to start working for your sister, right? At her garage?” she asked. Lexa hummed affirmatively. “So, would she be upset if you decided to take the scenic route? When is the next time you’re going to drive across the country with a fun stranger?”

Clarke pulled out her most charming smile as the cherry on top of her argument. Lexa looked at her warily. “‘A fun stranger?’”

The blonde laughed. “Yes. You don’t know it yet, but I am a blast to be around. Trust me, I can find some awesome places for us to visit.”

Lexa hesitated, not sure what to say. She was anxious to get home, having been away for so long, but Clarke was right. She hadn’t had a vacation since—well, ever—and she worked incredibly hard the last six years.

 _Surely Anya wouldn’t mind_ she thought.

“Very well, Clarke, you may plan a few detours. However, I would like to have vetoing powers for our stops,” Lexa answered after a few long moments.

She flicked her eyes over to her passenger and her heart stuttered at the enormous, exultant grin that was aimed at her. Forcing her eyes back on the road, she was glad they had been protected by her sunglasses from the beaming smile Clarke had just flashed her. She continued listing her stipulations before Clarke could say anything.

“And I’m not sure what your definition of adventure is, but nothing too crazy, okay? I would like to arrive in New Orleans without any warrants for my arrest or serious injuries.”

Clarke was practically vibrating, hardly able to believe her luck. “This is going to be great. I’ll find the best stuff. And don’t worry, Lexa, I can help you out with most of the semi-serious injuries.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that wrong major I said I was in?” Lexa nodded affirmatively. “It was pre-med as an undergrad and now I’m just about to start my third year of medical school.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow incredulously. “How is becoming a doctor a bad thing?”

“Not bad, just wrong for me,” Clarke countered, but didn’t elaborate further.

Instead, she grabbed Lexa’s iPhone from the cup holder it was sitting in and, to the brunette’s shock at Clarke’s forwardness, reached for Lexa’s hand and placed her thumb on the home button to unlock it.

Clarke had begun to dig through Lexa’s glove compartment when the driver finally found her voice. “Clarke…what are you doing?”

The blonde pulled out a scrap paper and a pen and then went back to Lexa’s phone without looking up once. “My phone is back at the church somewhere. So until I get a new one in Boise sometime tomorrow, I’m disconnected. If I’m going to plan an awesome trip, I’m going to need the all-knowing Google to tell me what there is to do in Boise, Idaho at ten o’clock at night.”

“Tonight?” Lexa exclaimed.

Clarke looked up at the question, confused at Lexa’s surprised tone. “Well, yeah, unless you want to stay in Boise for two nights. There has to be something to do in Boise at night. It has…” She checks the screen. “Two hundred and twenty five thousand people in it.”

“Like what?”

“Ah, ah, Lexa. That would ruin the surprise. Have a little faith in me.”

Lexa huffed, but didn’t push it. The longer they sat, Lexa tapping her fingers against the dashboard to the beat of the radio and Clarke frantically scribbling down her ideas, the more the brunette appreciated that Clarke wanted to take charge of planning their detours. Lexa’s lived on a strict schedule for school for so long that it was a relief to not know what to expect, especially since she knew next to nothing about the woman doing the planning. And, for some odd reason, Lexa did trust Clarke. Something about her seemed like she wouldn’t do anything too far outside of Lexa’s comfort zone.

After an hour of silence, Lexa noticed that Clarke had stopped writing. She glanced over and saw the tip of a pink tongue sticking out of lips and a brow scrunched together in concertation as she tapped away on Lexa’s phone.

“You’re giving me a headache you’re thinking so hard,” Lexa commented.

Clarke looked up, startled. “Sorry. You must think I’m a terribly boring passenger. But I am trying to make all the hours we’re about to spend in this car a bit more interesting. I went through your music to get an idea of what you like—which, by the way, you have excellent taste in music—and am now putting together a playlist of music we both like. So far it’s fifty some hours of music on it.”

Lexa wanted to be angry at the slight invasion of her privacy, but there was something endearing about how at home Clarke made herself in a stranger’s space, like she was somehow always there, a comforting and familiar presence. Similar to how she had just draped herself in the passenger seat, shoes off and her feet sticking out the window like she didn’t have a care in the world—like she hadn’t just ran out of her own wedding and left behind everything she knew, abandoning a life she had felt trapped in. In the back of Lexa’s mind, she couldn’t help but wonder how long until the reality of Clarke’s situation caught up with her and felt her heart twinge with pity for whenever that moment happened.

For now, though, Lexa focused on the present and that was making sure she wasn’t about to listen to two days’ worth of Katy Perry and Selena Gomez.

 

* * *

 

 

Day One: Boise, Idaho

The foothills of the Rocky Mountains provided a gorgeous backdrop to the capital city of Idaho, Clarke was sure, but it was difficult to make them out in the dark. It was well after ten PM and the city was bright with lights and alive with people looking for a good time on a beautiful Saturday night. Despite how bone tired she was from a day she was pretty sure could be described as absolute insanity, at best, she was not going to stop that from having a great time and enjoying the nightlife Boise had to offer.

After she and Lexa had freshened up in their room at the Grove Hotel, she looked at Lexa, unable to stop the excited grin from spreading across her lips. “Are you ready?”

Lexa laughed. “I’m not sure I can be. I let a stranger plan my night. How do I know this isn’t some elaborate ruse to drug me and ship me off to somewhere to be some kind of sex slave?”

Clarke rolled her eyes at Lexa’s teasing, but refused to rise to her bait. “Grab your jacket, its chilly outside and we have a short walk.”

“Walk?”

Clarke made sure she had only their room key and her wallet before leading them out of the room. “Yes, walking. It’s only five minutes away.”

“What is?”

The blonde didn’t answer, but instead was practically skipping out of the hotel. Lexa wasn’t sure where the woman was getting her into, but she was extremely curious as to what a runaway bride chooses to do for fun on the night she was supposed to celebrating her wedding.

As they started walking towards Clarke’s surprise, the almost bride took a deep breath and exhaled happily. “Damn it feels good to get out of Seattle. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in years. I think the mountains help.”

“There are mountains near Seattle, Clarke,” Lexa said dryly.

“Obviously I know that. I grew up there and I do have eyes. But I just meant new mountains. There’s something about a new city and new scenery that just makes you feel alive, you know?” Clarke explained. “Like, anything can happen. The possibilities, Lexa. That’s what I’m breathing in.”

The brunette laughed, unable to ignore Clarke’s infectious enthusiasm. “I think I need to get my baby checked out. The fumes have clearly gotten to your head.”

A groan escaped her companions lips as their stopped at West Grove and Main, waiting for the white walking light to change. “How in the name of all names have you not chosen one for your car? A gorgeous thing like that needs a proper name than something as generic as baby.”

“I’m sorry, did you spend three years restoring my 1974 Chevy Nova from a piece of junkyard scrap to one of the most beautiful things on four wheels you’ve ever seen?”

Sky blue eyes rolled in exasperation as they crossed the street, jostling through the crowd consisting mainly of nightclub goers. “I’m not saying I have to name it, just gently suggesting that you try something else.”

“Gently? Something tells me that there isn’t much in life you do gently, Clarke.”

The two women traded barbs and possible names for Lexa’s car back and forth until the blonde stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. An older man with a loosened tie and briefcase narrowly missed running right into Clarke, muttering a curse about young people and their rudeness, before walking around them. Lexa looked at the building Clarke was looking at with a childlike grin.

“Spacebar Arcade? You brought us to some kids place?” Lexa asked, definitely not expecting that development.

“It’s called Spacebar, Lexa, because it’s a twenty one plus arcade. We get to play old school arcade games like Donkey Kong and Pinball while drinking beer in excess,” Clarke explained.

“You want to get drunk at an arcade bar?” Lexa asked incredulously.

Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand and dragged her towards the entrance. “This is going to be awesome. Come on. Give it a chance.”

Lexa’s hand felt very warm inside Clarke’s, but she ignored it and chose to follow Clarke’s advice and relax.

She had never been in an arcade before, but she imagined a place similar to Chuck E. Cheese and half expected to see screaming children everywhere. She couldn’t have been more wrong. A turntablist musician blasted through the speakers, the bass rattled through their ribcage making it feel like all their insides were vibrating at dangerous speeds. While the lights of the bar were dim, neon lights emanating from the old arcade games shone everywhere. Leading towards the back was the bar and lining the sides of the place past a few steps were arcade games everywhere. Lexa hadn’t even realized how varied arcade games were, but she never would have guessed there were so many different kinds.

Clarke led Lexa to the bar, already pulling her money out. The building was packed and already she was getting hot in her jean jacket. She finally found an empty spot at the bar and quickly slid into it before another patron could take it. She caught the eye of woman behind the bar and flashed a charming smile, having figured out a long time ago just how effective it could be when used on both men and women.

“What can I get you ladies?”

“We’ll have two drafts of your favorite beer, please,” Clarke answered, slapping a twenty down on the wood.

“Coming right up.”

“This place is not what I was expecting!” Lexa yelled to be heard over the music.

Clarke laughed at Lexa’s stunned look. She looked quite out of place with her tight black jeans, white t-shirt, and form fitted leather jacket compared to all the people in graphic t-shirts and slightly too big jeans. “What do you think?”

Lexa glanced around and saw that almost everyone was having a great time. Lots of laughter, good natured heckling, and faces contorted in concentration as they tried to make it past a difficult level.

“I think I could find something here I like,” she answered with an impish smirk.

Clarke paid and thanked the bartender, then thrust an amber colored beer into Lexa’s hand. Then she clanked their glasses together. “To the first of many exciting and unexpected nights.”

Lexa smiled and took a deep pull from the beer, one that was much more hoppy than she was used to, but enjoyed nonetheless.

“Let’s go find a game, shall we?” Lexa asked, sweeping her arm out for Clarke to go first.

The two young women bounced from game to game, mainly watching others play at first. After a little while, Clarke noticed a jukebox was being used as the DJ and went over to look through the songs before picking on. When she was finished, Lexa was standing at a Centipede machine.

“Ready to kill a gross bug from space?” Lexa asked with a smirk.

Clarke grinned devilishly. “Let’s make it rain bug guts!”

They set their beer down and prepared themselves to defend the Earth from an alien infestation. Clarke cracked her knuckles and then pumped her fist in excitement when the song she chose to play had come on.

“The Beastie Boys knew I needed some good luck. What better song to kill bugs in outer space to than Intergalactic?” she asked.

“Focus on the music all you want, Clarke. I’ll be actually doing the killing here.”

They hit start and soon Lexa was getting so into it she was incredibly grateful Anya wasn’t there to witness her excitement over an arcade game.

“The fuck is that nasty spider doing? I have to shoot them, too?”

“What are these blocks in the way? Do I want them there?”

“Come on, Clarke! Do it for your people. We’re about to die. Shoot the stupid thing.”

“Not as easy as it looks, is it, Lexa?”

“Ha! Just another bug on the windshield!”

It had taken a while to get used to the controls, but they played and played, absolutely addicted to trying to one up each other on who could last the longest. By the time their fingers were numb from button mashing, Clarke had only just barely edged Lexa out with lasting three rounds.

“I blame those fucking spiders,” Lexa had muttered into her drink, making Clarke laugh at how annoyed she was at losing.

“Poor Lexa. Come on, loser buys the next round, remember?”

They both had a pleasant buzz going from the three beers they each had and decided to rest their fingers for a while. Clarke excused herself to the bathroom after Lexa brought drinks over and the brunette took this time to check her phone.

_Anya [10:48 PM]: Glad you made to Boise okay. How was the drive?_

Lexa took a moment to figure out what to say to her sister. She had yet to inform her she’d be taking a few extra days, wanting to have a couple minutes away from Clarke to do that and planned to do it in the morning before heading out.

_Lexa [12:03 AM]: It was…interesting. I’ll tell you more tomorrow._

She waited patiently for the three ellipses to go away before Anya replied.

_Anya [12:04 AM]: Is everything okay? Did something happen to the car?_

_Lexa [12:04 AM]: The car is running smoothly. It’s not a bad thing, don’t worry. I’ll tell you about it in the morning._

_Anya [12:04 AM]: If you’re sure. Keep me updated, okay? I would hate for you to spend all that time on those degrees only to not make it back home to put them to use._

_Lexa [12:05 AM]: Your concern for my wellbeing is touching. Talk to you later, Anya._

_Anya [12:05 AM]: Night, Monkey._

Lexa shook her head at the childhood nickname and tucked her phone back in her jeans when she saw Clarke returning, but had something in her hands.

“Tell me, Woods,” she said, setting down a very familiar game. “Why do I get the feeling that you are a halfway decent chess player?”

Lexa’s eyebrow rise dangerously high and Clarke felt her competitive side trill happily at the challenging smirk that was directed at her. “Bring it, Griffin.”

Ten minutes into the game, with only a few pieces moved from both players, Lexa decided to make the game more interesting. “How about for every piece taken, whoever loses that piece has to answer a question posed by the taker? And if the person being asked is too uncomfortable with the question, they have to chug a whole pint of beer.”

Lexa saw a flash of panic behind Clarke’s eyes, but it went away too fast for the mechanic to dwell on and delightful glee took its place. “My, my, look who’s getting the hang of spontaneous adventures.”

“Hardly an adventure,” Lexa said, moving a knight. “Simply a way for us to get to know one another better in this particular environment.”

Clarke snorted into her drink. “Right, because getting to know someone while you’re both borderline drunk is a great way for two strangers to bond.”

“I had a Russian professor who said until you get drunk with a Russian, they’ll never consider you a true friend,” Lexa countered.

Clarke laughed and raised her half empty pint glass. “Tvoye zdorovye!”

Lexa’s eyebrows rose at Clarke’s understanding of how to toast in Russian and returned the sentiment before they went back to their game.

It was fifteen minutes of focused silence until Lexa successfully took one of Clarke’s pawns. The blonde took a deep breath, preparing to answer one of the many difficult questions the brunette undoubtedly had.

“What’s your favorite movie?”

Shocked blue eyes blinked at genuine green ones. “What?”

“What is your favorite movie? I know it can be hard to pick just one, but I’ll give you some leeway if you need it.”

Clarke gaped like a fish for a few moments before she closed her mouth and cleared her throat. “Er, I’ve never been able to pick the best out of three specific ones. Pride and Prejudice—the one with Kiera Knightly—Good Will Hunting, and Moulin Rouge.”

“All fantastic films, however, you’re missing the beauty that is the Fast and Furious movies from your list.”

Clarke barked with laughter. “Of course you’d say that. You’re a mechanic.”

“The cars are appealing, of course,” Lexa said, taking a nervous sip of her beer. “But Michelle Rodriguez and Gal Gadot are excellent reasons to love those movies as well.” She took a larger gulp. She always hated the few seconds it took someone to process what she said and either awkwardly talk about what a huge ally they are or awkwardly try to move on from the subject as quickly as possible.

Lexa wasn’t sure why she was, but she again was surprised by Clarke, who spoke without any hesitation or awkwardness. “Of course you’d watch for them. I definitely took you for having the badass, could kill you with one look, leather jacket wearing woman.”

The mechanic wasn’t quite sure what to make of that answer. “You knew I was gay?”

Clarke smirked. “The only other time my gaydar pinged louder than the time I’ve spent in your car is when I walked into a bar that was hosting the after party of a local women’s rugby tournament when I was in college.”

“What?” Lexa asked, breathing suddenly becoming difficult. Her brain was swimming with alcohol and that made her question what Clarke meant by having gaydar; that usually only meant one thing.

 _No way…_ Lexa though.

Clarke hummed positively. “Also, the amount of gay musicians on your phone was a dead giveaway.”

Lexa later blamed the alcohol and the sudden twist in the plot for her blurting out such a rude question. “Wait, are you gay?”

She said loud enough at just the wrong moment, when the music died down and people looked over at them strangely. Clarke giggled at Lexa’s red ears. “Did my leaving a man at the altar give that away?” She continued before Lexa could embarrass herself any further. “Bisexuality is a valid orientation, thank you very much.”

Lexa recovered, not wanting Clarke to think any less of her. “Of course it is. I never thought it wasn’t. I was just…surprised is all.”

The blonde smiled and patted the hand at her companion reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it, Lexa. We all still fall into the heteronormative trap.”

Lexa mumbled something incoherent and they returned to the game.

 

* * *

 

“I feel like there’s a joke somewhere about not being able to get it in the first time.”

“Shut up, Lexa. I’m fucking drunk and my coordination isn’t up to normal standards.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I swear if you put your hand anywhere near mine I will bite it off.”

“Kinky.”

“Ugh, finally.”

Lexa and Clarke, after several minutes of standing in the hallways outside their hotel room, eventually went inside their room.

“You know, you sure do have a lot of pride. It’s just a hotel key card. Couldn’t be that hard to stick it in the card slot,” Lexa said, face planting on her bed.

As soon as the walls had begun to spin in earnest, they had decided it was time to head back to the hotel. It was quite late and the long day in the car, the insanity of all that had happened, and the night spent drinking was finally catching up to them. Clarke was especially feeling it since she was approaching hour twenty four of being awake. How the two of them made it safely back to the hotel was quite astonishing and Lexa would kick their asses later for doing it so late at night without taking a cab.

“You’re just upset because I beat you in chess,” Clarke mumbled, fumbling her way through the covers of her own queen sized bed.

“I haven’t been beaten in chess in almost three years!” Lexa lamented.

“Then you need to start playing against higher caliber players. You should change. You’ll regret not taking your shoes off at least.”

“Yes, mom.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and immediately regretted it as her world began to spin once more. “Why did I drink so much?”

“Because I took your rook and you refused to pick between being trying to survive a zombie apocalypse or a nuclear one,” Lexa explained.

“I’m weak!” Clarke exclaimed upsettingly. “This trip is going to fix my tolerance level. Med school has brought it down way too much.”

Lexa dramatically waved her hand dismissively at the blonde. “Shhhh. Sleep time. Complain in the morning.”

“I’ll wish I had died in my sleep in the morning.”

That was the last thing Clarke and Lexa said before passing out.

 

* * *

 

 

 “You sure you can do this?”

Lexa sat next to Clarke on the bed of their hotel room. It was approaching eleven in the morning and the blonde was staring at the room landline so hard Lexa was worried it would combust.

“I’m sure. I have to. They’re probably worried out of their minds about where I am. It would be cruel to delay it any longer.”

The mechanic whole heartedly agreed and was glad Clarke recognized that. She awkwardly squeezed Clarke on the shoulder, hoping to give her some kind of encouragement.

“I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”

Lexa left and Clarke took a deep breath. She wasn’t the kind of person who got scared very often, but now she was absolutely terrified. After another moment, she forced herself to pick up the receiver and hit the number zero before entering a phone number she had memorized a long time ago.

“Clarke! Is that you?”

Abby Griffin’s voice was in a panic and Clarke felt a stab of guilt rip through her. Her mother had had enough grief for one lifetime and now Clarke had caused more, even if she’s convinced yesterday wasn’t a mistake.

“It’s me, mom.”

A strangled cry of relief left Abby’s throat. “Oh, thank God, sweetheart. Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“I’m fine mom, I promise,” Clarke assured her mother. “I haven’t been hurt or kidnapped or anything.”

“Where are you? Clarke, we’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Clarke’s lip quivered. She lay back against the bed and put her arm over her face to try and keep herself together. “I’m…away.”

Abby’s confusion was evident in her voice when she demanded an explanation. “Away? What’s that supposed to mean? What happened? One minute I’m waiting for you to walk down the aisle and the next I see the backlights of some car you had jumped into.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you, mom. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t talk yesterday, to anyone. I—I couldn’t go through with it.”

“With marrying Finn? Clarke, you love him.”

Clarke took a deep breath, still unsure of how to explain it to her mom. “I do…care for him. It’s not him. It’s me. It just…wasn’t right and I realized it far too late. I can’t go into detail now, but I couldn’t do it. Everything is wrong.”

“Clarke, I don’t understand. What is it you’re saying is wrong?”

“Everything is,” she answered. “I need some time. I need to get away from it all and get my head back on straight. Figure out what I want.”

“Time? Clarke you have a heart broken fiancé here who is worried sick about you. School starts up in only three weeks and you have your boards to keep studying for. You can’t just run away,” Abby explained emphatically.

“Please tell Finn I’m sorry. I can’t face him right now. He deserves better than me, though; better than some fucked up coward.”

“Clarke—” But Abby’s daughter interrupted her before she could continue.

“And I dropped out of med school.”

There was a long, long pause after that bomb. It was true though. That morning, before Lexa had woken up, Clarke slipped out of the room and went on to the hotel computer. After logging into her school account, she emailed her advisor, professors, and then withdrew from all of her classes and dropped out of the University.

“I’m sorry, Clarke, I must have heard you wrong. I thought you just said, after telling me you can’t marry your boyfriend of three years, that you’re dropping out of your final year of medical school?”

Clarke bit her lip so hard she drew blood. “Yes.”

“Are you insane, Clarke? You can’t just—you’ve worked so hard—I don’t understand how you could do this!”

“Because this isn’t my life, mom,” Clarke exploded. She hadn’t meant to but it was all building up and she couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I never wanted this. I never wanted to be a surgeon or any other kind of doctor. I never wanted to stay in Seattle and work at the hospital with you. I am not in love with Finn, but he was just the perfect guy—just the kind of man Dr. Clarke Griffin should be in love with. But I’m not, because that’s not who I am. I’ve become so completely fucking lost that I can’t tell where you begin and I end and I just can’t do it anymore.”

She ended her tirade, breathing heavily. She was met with silence and she regretted losing it. Another thing her mother didn’t’ deserve.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke said, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying not to cry. “I told myself I wouldn’t yell, but I need you to understand. I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life and one that wouldn’t just affect me. I needed to leave before Finn would get hurt more than he already is now. I’m sorry it happened the way it did, that I didn’t realize any of this sooner. I’m sorry that I am not a braver person.”

“Clarke, I don’t understand. I can’t. Please, just come home and we can talk about this,” Abby pleaded, desperation lacing every word.

“I can’t. I’m out of the state and I plan on going further away.”

“Out of the state?”

“Yes, I’m about to leave Boise. I need to actually go now. My ride is going to leave and I’ve kept her waiting long enough,” Clarke explained.

“Boise? How did you get there? Who is your ride? Where are you going?” Abby demanded.

“I got a ride with an incredibly kind woman. I’ll contact you later, to let you know I’m okay. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Clarke, no. Please don’t—”

Clarke hung up.

Her emotions swirled around inside her so violently, the blonde was sure she was about to be torn apart. Having finally said what she was really feeling out loud to her mother was so relieving, like a weight on her shoulders was lifted and she could stand up for the first time in years. However, she now had no idea what to do with her life and she couldn’t stop the ball of anxiety that was spinning with great discomfort in her chest.

But Lexa was waiting. And she had hours and hours to sit in a car with an amazingly caring, fun, and intelligent woman to think about her life and what she wanted from it. With that thought, Clarke stood up, after double checking she had everything, left the room and onto the open road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is why I said there won’t be regular updates. Working 60 hours weeks leaves little room for writing as much as I would like.
> 
> Since this is a road trip fic, the chapter titles will all be song titles or lyrics. Most of them will have something to do with what state or city Clarke and Lexa are in during the chapter or it might be a little tease as to what the chapter is about. I’ll credit the song at the end of each chapter, but all the songs are on the playlist I made for this fic. If you want the playlist, let me know in the comments and I'll post it in the next chapter. 
> 
> Last thing, friends. I have been to only one of the cities Clarke and Lexa will be visiting on their road trip. I will do my best to describe each city accurately, but apologies in advance if I get something wrong. I did as much research as I could without actually going, but I now know a bunch of cool places to go and things to do if I ever visit these cities.
> 
> Don't forget to comment if you want the playlist or if you like the fic. Thanks to all those who have left kudos and comments already.
> 
> Tumblr link: [the-gayest-pathfinder](http://the-gayest-pathfinder.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Songs:  
> Chapter One title from "Here is the Church, Here is the Steeple" by the Wonder Kids  
> Chapter Two title from "Where the Streets Have No Name" by U2  
> Chapter Three title from "Idaho" by Train  
> "Cosmic Assassins" by DJ Qbert, Mix Master Mike, and Vinroc  
> "Intergalactic" by Beastie Boys


	4. I've Got Utah Dust Inside my Boots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait folks. Things have been crazy with the holidays and some other personal stuff (all good :D), so I haven't had much time. Also, this chapter was a bit hard to write. There's more exposition than I was originally planning, but it's important stuff. Next chapter will be more exciting, promise! On we go!

"I got Utah dust  
Inside my boots  
Peroxide  
Covering my roots  
Know what it's like to love  
And like to be loved  
I tell you it's such a thrilling thing"

-"Yin & Yang" by Adam Ant

 

“When you say something interesting happened, do you mean interesting as in you don’t want to really say it’s a bad thing or interesting like it’s actually interesting?”

Lexa hissed at how loud her sister’s voice was and adjusted her aviators. The pounding headache she had from the amount of alcohol she consumed last night was only heightened by the bright, beautiful sunny morning in Boise. She was waiting by her car for Clarke to finish calling her mother and it was the perfect moment to contact her sister and update her on her travel plans.

“Anya, could you please tone it down? There’s no need to yell,” Lexa asked. Her voice was gravelly and low from all the yelling her and Clarke had to do to be heard inside the noisy, crowded bar.

There was a pause for a few heartbeats before Anya started laughing loudly. Lexa jumped and pulled her phone away from her ear, cursing her sister under her breath.

Anya calmed down after a moment of raucous laughter. “How are you hungover? Did you get wasted in the hotel bar by yourself last night?”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Would you be okay if I delayed my arrival for a few days?”

Lexa could practically see Anya’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Why? You’ve been so anxious to get back home this entire year and now you want to wait even longer?”

“Not too long; just for a few days. We want to make a few stops along the way before we get to New Orleans.”

“We?”

Lexa rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, about that.” She launched into a hurried explanation about how she met Clarke and her situation and how she wanted to make a few stops along the way to have some fun. When she finished, she was slightly out of breath, her nerves from wondering what Anya’s reaction would be got the better of her and she realized she barely breathed during her entire explanation.

Anya didn’t disappoint. “You have got to be kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Her older sister let out a long sigh as she processed everything she just said. “You do realize how stupidly dangerous that was? Picking up some crazy stranger and agreeing to take a road trip with them is enough of a reason for me to get you committed.”

Lexa pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to find the words to justify her actions. “I know. Trust me, I told Clarke the same thing when she asked me. But, Anya I couldn’t just let her go out on her own. She had no one and she seemed like she could really use someone. I think I really would have kicked myself later if I had just left her. And what if something happened to her while she was traveling all alone? I would have been partly responsible and I couldn’t have lived with myself.”

“Uh huh,” Anya simple stated.

“What?” Lexa huffed.

“What does she look like?”

Lexa blinked, taken aback at the sudden change in conversation. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to know which part of you felt sorry for her, your heart or your clit.”

If Lexa hadn’t already been desensitized by Anya’s language years ago, she would have blushed scarlet at her sister’s words. “It’s not like that, Anya. Not at all.”

“What’s her name?” Lexa sighed and gave it to her. Less than thirty seconds later, her phone dinged. “This her?”

The brunette looked at the picture message she received. It was a profile picture from Clarke’s Facebook page. She swears Anya could have been a detective in a previous life. “Yes, that’s her. How did you find it so quickly?”

“There aren’t very many women named Clarke. But yeah, I definitely get it now.”

“Anya,” Lexa pleaded, wanting her to understand. “I told you, it’s not like that. Yes, she’s gorgeous, but she’s super emotionally vulnerable right now. I would never—I can’t believe you would think so little of me that I would take advantage of someone in her situation.”

“Oh, my God. You’re already crushing.”

“I’m going to hang up on you.”

Anya laughed. “Sorry, I’m sorry. But how can I think any differently? This entire situation is not something you would ever do. Can you blame me for wondering if your motives aren’t one hundred percent pure? And I know you’d never actually go through with it. You’re way too kind. Besides, she screams heterosexual.” Lexa remained quiet, biting her lip awkwardly. “Wait, she is straight, right?”

“She told me she was bisexual last night,” Lexa admitted.

She nearly dropped her phone because Anya actually began snorting she was laughing so hard. “I can’t believe it. You’re telling me that a bisexual, blonde bombshell in a wedding dress is hitching a ride with you because you just happen to be driving by the church she was supposed to get married in?”

Lexa felt a strange defensiveness bubble up for Clarke. “Stop objectifying her, Anya. She’s a really nice person who is feeling lost right now. And if I can help her out by giving her a ride, why shouldn’t I?”

“All right, all right, calm down, Thelma, I’ll stop. It’s just a pretty unbelievable situation.”

“Anya, please, I’m definitely Louise, thank you very much. But yes, I know. It’s crazy.”

“So when do you think you’ll arrive?”

Lexa glanced over at the hotel doors to see Clarke coming out, looking even more exhausted than she had when Lexa had left the room.

“Not sure. I gave Clarke permission to plan the stops. But it won’t be too long, I don’t think. There’s only so much time we can spend on the road,” she answered.

Anya hummed in approval. “Well, you certainly deserve some time off. Go have fun with Julia Roberts.”

“Anya—”

“And I want constant updates. This is an amusing story, but it will stop being funny the moment I even suspect this crazy woman does something to you. I don’t care what emotional state she’s in, I will end her if you end up hurt or in jail or dead. Understand?”

Lexa couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s words. Despite her gruffness, Lexa never doubted that Anya loved her, even if she could be stingy about expressing it.

“I know, An. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Multiple times, Lexa.” And she hung up.

Lexa locked her phone and glanced at Clarke, who was patiently waiting on the passenger side.

The blonde gave her a small smile. Lexa decided not to bring up the phone call to her mom, given how ill at ease Clarke looked. Instead, she decided to try and get Clarke excited to get back on the road. “Are you ready for donuts on the go, awesome nineties pop music, and beautiful scenery?”

The grin that replaced the small smile on Clarke’s face told Lexa that she did the right thing. “I definitely am. It’s been fun, Boise, but I’m ready for the next adventure.”

 

* * *

 

 

Day Two: Utah

“You look like you need a nap.”

“I’m fine, Clarke.”

“I’m just saying. We had a late night last night and we both woke up hung over. You’ve been driving for two hours and you look exhausted,” the blonde argued.

Lexa sighed. “I don’t want to pull over to nap for an hour.”

“So, let me drive.”

The brunette burst out laughing. For a full minute she laughed. She glanced over and saw that Clarke was definitely not pleased about her reaction.

Clarke crossed her arms and glared at the mechanic. “I am an excellent driver, I’ll have you know. I’ve never been in an accident or even pulled over.”

“Do you even know how to drive a stick shift?” Lexa asked.

“I do, as a matter of fact. I learned to drive with a stick before an automatic,” Clarke shot back. “That’s a bit sexist, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t asking because you’re a woman, Clarke. That would be rather hypocritical of me to do so.” Lexa shook her head in disbelief. She moved the car to the left a little bit to check if anyone was coming down the opposing lane so she could pass the grandpa driving ten miles below the speed limit in front of them. Unfortunately, it looked like they were stuck behind him for a few more minutes. “I was asking because barely anyone our age these days knows how to drive stick.”

“So does that mean you’ll let me drive?” Clarke asked hopefully.

“I meant what I said at the airport. I love my car too much. It’s my most prized possession. I don’t let just anyone drive it,” Lexa explained.

The blonde huffed, unamused. “I’ll convince you soon.”

Lexa chuckled. “Good luck with that.” Clarke muttered something Lexa couldn’t hear and something told her she didn’t want to know what it was. “So, what did the crystal ball say would be our next stop?”

Clarke grinned excitedly. “Honeyville, Utah.”

Lexa’s nose scrunched, confused. “What the fuck is in Honeyville, Utah? Sounds like some place out of a children’s book.”

“Well, there will be children there, but we’ll be getting there a bit later than most families will be and a lot of people will be leaving the campground since its Sunday,” Clarke said distractedly, almost like she was talking to herself.

“We’re going camping?”

  
“Not to worry, Lexa, only for a night. There’s a really cool area coming up in a few hours I think you’ll really enjoy.”

 

Lexa’s mouth turned down ever so slightly in a frown. “Only a few hours away? Clarke we are just leaving Boise. We could make get well into Wyoming by the end of the day.”

“Well yeah, but you said you were okay with a few detours. Trust me when I say this place will be worth it.”

“Clarke…” Lexa sighed.

“You brought a swim suit, right?” the blonde asked.

Lexa blinked, taken aback by the random question. “A swim suit?”

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke glanced down at the refurbished phone she purchased at the Idaho iRepair electronic shop near the hotel before they left Boise, double checking that her directions were right. “Okay, it’s just the next left up here and we’ve arrived.”

Lexa squinted at the signs for where they were going since Clarke was adamant on not telling her what she planned for them.

“Crystal Hot Springs?” she asked.

Clarke exited Google Maps and put the phone in her pocket.

“Yup,” Clarke said, popping the last sound of the word loudly. She was quite excited to let the hot springs get all the toxins she put in her body the night before out of her. “Last night was crazy fun, but I feel like a night in steaming hot water under the Utah night sky sounds perfect.”

Lexa had to admit that Clarke’s next stop for them sounded heavenly. She’s never been to a hot spring before. But there was one thing they didn’t have. “What about gear to camp in?”

Clarke had that covered, however. “They have stuff we can rent. It’s only for a night and the prices aren’t too bad, especially since it’s a Sunday night.”

Lexa allowed herself to begin to get excited about this detour and grinned at the passenger. “Well Clarke, I have to admit, since you’ve decided that being a doctor isn’t what you want, you will always have a career in adventure planning.”

The brunette glanced at her companion just in time to see an exaggerated eye roll.

Clarke gestured to the upcoming turn. “Just take the damn left, Lexa.”

Lexa did as instructed and her eyes widened at the number of cars parked near the main office. “I see we’re not the only ones who wanted to take in the soothing, healing properties of a hot spring.”

“It’ll be fine. Like I said, it’s Sunday. Most folks will leave by the end of business hours,” Clarke explained.

They pulled into a spot and Clarke offered to go pay for the overnight camping passes and the cost of camping gear. It was a bit of a struggle since Lexa insisted on it being split, but they agreed for her to pay for their next stop. While Clarke was paying, Lexa went to the gift store to buy a swim suit because she didn’t own one; not since she was a kid, anyways. After being directed to the suits by the retail worker, Lexa looked for one in her size and grimaced at the slim selection that was left after a busy weekend.

Clarke was impatiently waiting outside the shop for Lexa to finish. Fifteen minutes had passed since she had finished making arrangements for their camping needs and wondered what was taking the mechanic so long. Finally, she grew sick of waiting and entered the store, making her way towards the sign of the dressing rooms.

She knocked on the only door available. “What’s taking so long, Lexa? I can’t imagine a swim suit is too tough a job to put together for a mechanic.”

Lexa’s muffled voice came through the wood. “I’ll be out in just a moment. It was difficult to find a suit in my size.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting outside.”

True to her word, Lexa soon exited the building onto the path that led to the hot springs. “The cashier was telling me that this place has possibly the highest mineral content of any hot spring in the world. So this will be a wonderfully healthy stop for our travel weary bodies. Nice find, Clarke.”

The blonde laughed Lexa’s practicality. “I was going for just going for a fun, relaxing time, but I’m glad your health nut side approves.”

“That’s funny, Clarke, most women love my health nut side. I’ve never heard any complaints about how I keep my body looking like this,” Lexa shot back with an exaggerated wink.

The brunette worried that Clarke’s eyes almost got stuck they rolled back so hard.

“Come on Aphrodite, we only have a few hours left until they close the springs. And I’d like to experience them before I make us drive to the Grand Canyon so I can push you in.”

They finally arrived at the springs and were not disappointed. Pools large and small dotted an area larger than a football field, not including the Olympic size pool. The water slide was fairly impressive and Clarke was itching to try it out.

“I vote go for the slide first and wear ourselves out first. Then we can relax in the warmer, calmer areas,” she stated as she pulled her clothes off. Lexa didn’t reply right away, which was unusual for the brunette, who usually had an opinion on all of Clarke’s ideas.

Clarke turned to ask what was wrong and was not prepared for what she saw: Lexa in a bikini. No, not just a bikini, but a particular one.

The laughter from Clarke was immediate and paralyzing. In the back of her mind, as she was wheezing to catch her breath, tried to remember if she had ever read a case where someone died from laughing too much.

Standing as tall and proud as one could in her situation, Lexa’s crossed arms could barely cover the bikini she was wearing. Bright yellow stood out against tanned skin. Adorning the top part of the suit were goggled eyes that Clarke instantly recognized as a minion from the _Despicable Me_ movies. What Lexa couldn’t hide was the hideous, crooked tooth grin that was smiling at her from the bottom part of the suit, front and center.

“Real mature, Clarke,” Lexa muttered, her face aflame. “There weren’t any other kinds of suits in my size and I’d rather wear this than one that will look like a G-string suit.”

The blonde tried to reply, she truly did, but her lungs were too preoccupied with trying to breathe through her laughs to form any coherent words. Sick of the blatant laughter at her expense, Lexa took three long strides towards Clarke and waited until blue eyes met green. Then, with a cruel smirk playing on her lips, and before Clarke could react, Lexa gave her companion a hard shove. Clarke flew into the pool they were standing next to, sputtering as she tried to right herself at the sudden turn of events.

“You are such an asshole, Woods,” the blonde cried out as soon as she found her footing. Her glare was quite vicious, but Lexa could see that Clarke’s amusement in the twitching of her lips.

The mechanic grinned, quite pleased with herself. “That will teach you manners, Griffin. You shouldn’t laugh at people. It’s quite rude.”

“‘It’s quite rude,’” Clarke mocked in a high pitched voice before speaking normally. “Just get in the damn pool before I do something I’ll regret doing in front of witnesses.”

Lexa’s chuckles died out as she jumped into the hot, heavenly pool. The moan she let out was incredibly salacious and Clarke raised an eyebrow at the sound. She wasn’t blind. Lexa was right to be arrogant about her body. The mechanic was quite toned, borderline ripped, with muscles shifting beneath the smooth, tanned skin. To say that her new friend was gorgeous was a massive understatement and, seeing Lexa soaking wet with steam rising up around her like a damn romance movie (even with the horrific swim suit), Clarke felt the twinges of arousal just below her abdomen.

Her and Finn’s sex life was…fine. He was an attentive partner, and one of the most unselfish ones the blonde had been with, but Clarke had typically been a passionate lover and needed an equally ardent lover for sex to be great. It’s only happened with a few people, though, and while Finn was…nice and safe, he was not what her body was now just realizing she was craving. It’s been years since she’s had mind blowing sex and the reminder of that was making itself known with just a glance of a gorgeous, ripped, and sexy brunette just feet away from her in a bikini.

However, Clarke pushed her physical reactions down, knowing that now was not the time to do something that crazy. She had done more insane things these last few days than she has in the last five years. Instead, she repeated her request to try out the slide and Lexa agreed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring the park, swimming, riding the slide, eating and drinking, and relaxing in the springs. The water had done wonders for both of their hangovers and they were feeling more relaxed than either of them remembers being in recent memory.

Clarke had been right about families leaving as the day went on and soon there weren’t too many people in the park. After lying in the rays of the sun for a few hours, they decided to get to their assigned campground while it was still light. With their gear stowed in the back of Lexa’s car, they drove on a dirt path far enough away from the road and the springs that they could no longer see the lights.

Clarke worried that they wouldn’t be able to set up the tent, since neither one of them had ever done any kind of traditional camping before, but they had made quick work of the tent and fire. The rest of their night was spent next to the fire, roasting some marshmallows and drinking some juice boxes Lexa had purchased in the gift shop. They had chatted on and off beneath the stars, comfortable with both the silence between them and the odd question or comment that came from either of them.

There had been a rather longer period of silence when Lexa suddenly thought of a question for her companion and decided to voice it. “So, since you don’t want to be a doctor, do you have an idea of what you’d like to do with your life?”

“Yup.”

The brunette waited for Clarke to say more, but was answered with silence. “Er, so what would you like to do?”

In the flow from the fire, Lexa saw Clarke’s expression change to one of feigned solemnity. “‘If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will answer you: I am here to live out loud.’”

Lexa blinked at the woman next to her like she had lost her mind. “What?” she asked stupidly.

Clarke let out a chuckle, no longer to maintain any seriousness. “It’s a quote by Emile Zola, a French writer from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.”

“Oh,” Lexa said, her tone showed she was still confused. “So, you want to be writer?”

“No, I can barely string a creative paragraph together,” the blonde explained. “I want to be an artist. Charcoal drawing and acrylic painting are my specialties.”

“That’s quite different than becoming a doctor.”

Clarke hummed in agreement. “I would have been a good doctor, I know that. But art is my passion—always had been. The practical side won out when I went to college. I took some art classes as electives in college, but I majored in pre-Med at the University of Washington before accepting a spot in their School of Medicine. But I hated studying medicine, even if it did make my mom really proud of me. I haven’t really drawn or painted anything of significance in years. My dad had always been the one to encourage me to explore my artistic side. He bought me my first easel when I was seven after I made a mess of the dining room table.” Clarke thought on the memory and chuckled. “I remember coming home early from a friend’s house to catch him in my room cursing at a pile of wood on the floor. He had spent three hours trying to put the thing together, hoping to surprise me. My mom would tease him for the next ten years because he had a master’s degree in engineering, but couldn’t put together an easel made for children.”

Lexa smiled at the image she had in her head of a small Clarke excitedly helping her dad put the easel together. “She only hung that over his head for ten years? I would think that would earn a few decades of teasing, at least.”

Clarke’s smile faded very quickly and she took a shaky deep breath in, staring intently into the fire. “She would have, I’m sure, but he died when I was sixteen.” Lexa felt as if someone had doused the fire with ice cold water and her heart plunge to the core of the Earth. A familiar pain welled up inside of her, along with instant empathy for the woman sitting beside her, who continued talking. “I’m not sure if being an artist is the right decision either. I went to med school for my mother and I hated it. What if me wanting to become an artist is just what my dad would have wanted, not what I actually want. I became so lost in what my parents wanted from me and now I’m not sure of myself anymore.”

Acting on instinct, Lexa rested her hand on top of Clarke’s and patiently waited for blue eyes to meet her own. A quote she also knew well spilled from her lips, hoping to bring her new friend some semblance comfort. “Norman Cousins once said ‘death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us when we live.’” Clarke’s mouth opened slightly, not expecting what Lexa said. “It sounds like art is what you lived for and that withered away after your biggest supporter died. You pursuing art again doesn’t mean losing yourself in a parent’s ambition for you, it would be you reviving a part of yourself. Your dad lives on inside of you, Clarke, as does your art. Letting that die again would be a tragedy.”

Clarke sat there, speechless. Lexa’s words held understanding and her eyes lacked any trace of pity. She had prepared herself for the usual sorry for your loss spiel, but Lexa, again, surprised her. Which meant, in this situation, could only mean one thing. “You’ve lost someone, too. A parent?” she whispered just loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the flames.

Lexa’s voice was low and thick with emotion. “Anya and I lost our parents when were kids. I was four and Anya was ten. There was a fire. I don’t really remember it, but Anya was the one to run me out of the house. We lived with my aunt and uncle until we came of age. Our father owned a mechanic shop and left it to us in his will. His best friend ran it until Anya was eighteen and took over. We agreed to be partners, but I wanted to know what I was doing on the business side. While I love fixing cars, I decided to go to college and get my undergraduate and graduate degrees in business. That’s why I’m going to New Orleans to work in a garage. I want to make sure we are successful and fulfill our family’s dream of expanding the business. Doing what we love, that’s how we honor ourselves and the ones we’ve lost. That’s how we keep them and ourselves alive.”

Clarke could do nothing but stare at Lexa. With just a few words, she felt at peace with her decision to pursue art. While she might have figured out for herself what Lexa said, to hear it spoken out loud by an ambitious, intelligent woman who knew the kind of loss Clarke had, worse even since she lost both parents at once, gave the blonde a feeling of confidence that she was making the right decision.

“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke finally replied, squeezing the hand that held hers. The brunette gave her a small smile in return and pulled her hand away.

“No thanks needed, Clarke,” she stated. “But I wouldn’t say no if your first piece was dedicated to me. I bet a giant portrait of my face would sell for millions.”

The attempt to lighten the mood worked and Clarke snorted at Lexa’s cockiness. “Sure thing. I’ll even donate the proceeds to you. I’m sure you’ll be able to put the fifty cents to good use.”

And just like that, the two women were back to trading quips and insults, but the undercurrent of a newly formed bond bubbled between them. As Clarke closed her eyes to the sound of the wind and crickets and Lexa rustling in the sleeping bag beside her, she couldn’t help but feel truly at peace for the first time since her father’s death.

 _Dad would have loved Lexa_ was the last coherent thought Clarke had before sleep took her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr link: [the-gayest-pathfinder](http://the-gayest-pathfinder.tumblr.com/)


	5. Mr. Jail-keeper, Put Another Gal in My Stall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proky’s Bar is a real place, but I simply changed the location from next to a car dealership off the highway to the downtown area as well as took some artistic liberties with the interior decorating. But I will admit that the graffiti sign is not mine. It’s real according to the photos on Google of the place. No offense meant towards Proky’s or small towns.
> 
> TW: a homophobic slur is used a few times and there is a brief bit of violence, but nothing too graphic. Safe reading.

Thirty days in jail, with my back turned to the wall, to the wall  
Thirty days in jail, with my back turned to the wall  
Look here, mister jail keeper, put another gal in my stall  
I don't mind being in jail, but I got to stay there so long, so long

-"Jailhouse Blues" by Bessie Smith

Day Three: Just outside Fort Bridger, WY

Clarke had never taken a road trip before. She’d been on a few day trips the odd couple hours away in Washington, sometimes making it up to Vancouver for a night or two throughout her life. But any other trip she would take a plane to get to. On day three, she had made a mental list of things she learned while taking a road trip.

One, most driving games were stupid. She looked some up on her phone and she found that most of them were created for children before smart phones, tablets, and DVD players in cars were invented.

Two, for long trips, the driver doesn’t have full control of the music. That one was mainly for driver-passenger harmony.

Three, despite being a lover of music with quite an eclectic taste, music would start to get a little old after three days of using it as a means of entertainment. Clarke and Lexa decided to make use to the audiobooks and podcasts on Spotify. They were currently listening to “History Chicks”. Well, they were, before they lost cell reception for a ten mile stretch.

Four, the last thing that Clarke learned, was how boring road trips could be. The most exciting thing had happened in the last hour was the highway changing from 84 to 80. The flat landscape provided no breaks and Clarke began to believe they were on an old Hollywood movie set where they were characters sitting in a car with the same two vista screens moving next to them to create the illusion of movement.

Lexa was an excellent traveling companion and they had kept each other fairly entertained with whatever topic came up throughout the last three days. They found they had quite a lot in common for two people from different ends of the country and two different backgrounds.

However, there was only so much talking two people could do for three days straight and now Clarke was getting antsy. Not that she was getting sick of Lexa, quite the contrary, but still. Talking for three days became wearisome after a point. They had just passed Fort Bridger, Wyoming after being on the road for about two and a half hours. Lexa seemed fairly content with the silence and normally Clarke didn’t mind those moments of peace, but she had always been a busy woman. Med school didn’t leave much time for peace and quiet and she was beginning to feel restless doing nothing but sitting.

Her agitation must have been obvious to the mechanic. “I feel like I need to crack the windows due how much carbon dioxide you’re breathing out with all your sighing.”

Clarke smiled sheepishly at being called out. “Sorry, but I’m getting a bit of cabin fever.”

Lexa hummed understandingly. “Well, we’re coming up on Rock Springs in less than an hour. Would that be okay to stop for gas and a late lunch? I doubt there’s much there, but maybe we can do a little exploring.”

“That sounds awesome. Mind if we go to a bar? I’m craving a Bloody Mary,” Clarke asked excitedly.

Lexa chuckled. “Why not? Crappy bar food it is.”

With something to look forward to, Clarke felt a bit better and patiently waited the rest of the journey.

 

* * *

 

 Day Three: Rock Springs, WY

“Wow.”

“Yup.”

“It’s empty.”

“Yup.”

“Are we sure this isn’t an old ghost town and we’re about to be brutally murdered by an old west outlaw specter who can’t move on because he needs to exact revenge on the descendants of the sheriff who had him hanged? Because if so, we should leave. My blonde locks mean I’m always the first one to die in horror film situations.”

Lexa bit back a laugh at the drama queen standing next to her on the deserted main road cutting through Rock Springs, Wyoming. “Then you should take comfort in the fact that you would stick around long to save my life from the vindictive cowboy and help me defeat him. Once you’ve done that, I’ll salt and burn your remains so that you can go into the light.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at the mechanic. “You sure do think highly of yourself, Winchester, that you believe you’re enough to keep me tethered to this planet.”

“All a part of my charming personality,” Lexa stated with a wink and that damn smirk.

Her brain only slightly muddled from the attractive woman’s light flirting, Clarke pushed herself off the door of Lexa’s car that she was leaning on and walked into Proky’s Bar.

 Both women stopped short as soon as they walked inside.

“I think I’d rather take on that evil cowboy ghost than take one step further,” Lexa murmured quietly to Clarke.

To call this place a dive bar was generous. Not even Hollywood could come up with a seedier bar that Proky’s. Puke green paneled walls lined the small, one room bar, one area of panels, near the jukebox, had what Lexa prayed was ketchup stuck to the wall. The floors were once probably a light oak wood, but the years and customers had not been kind to them as they were covered in filth, gauges, crusted food, and even a few holes in the corners. Two worn and torn pool tables took up most of the space and a broken electric dart board stood at the back. Squinting slightly, Lexa saw that pinned with darts to the board was a picture of woman with long blonde hair. Drawn on her was a pair of horns and a tail was coming out from behind her.

“It’s…um…” Clarke couldn’t think of a single compliment to pay the bar. Nothing about it was charming or pleasant.

Despite their initial worry, Rock Springs was not a ghost town. Proky’s wasn’t packed, but there were a decent number of people milling about.

One of the patrons gave a curious glance at the two young women, both of them clearly out of place. As soon as he looked away, Lexa suggested leaving to find another place to eat.

“Budge up, girlies,” came a man’s rough voice from behind them, making the both of them jump. Realizing someone else was trying to enter the bar, Lexa and Clarke moved further in to avoid being knocked over.

“Well, why don’t we just quick eat, grab a drink, and get out? We don’t have to be here for more than thirty minutes,” Clarke proposed. Lexa clenched her jaw, ready to say no—her instincts begging her to say no—but her stomach loudly growling forced her to change her mind.

They took two seats near the end of the bar closest to the entrance. The middle aged woman behind the bar was busy with two costumers and the two travelers took the time to glance at the menu. With a limited number of food options, Lexa quickly decided on the buffalo chicken wrap with fries and beer to drink.

The woman with slightly weathered skin from too much tanning and graying hair took their order, her gum snapping as she asked what they wanted to drink. Clarke ordered a club sandwich and a bloody Mary and, after placing Lexa’s order, the woman left to get their drinks.

After the server set their drinks down, Lexa looked around the bar and something she saw caught her eye. With one eyebrow raised high into her brow, she stared in disbelief at the drawing.

Clarke took a generous sip of her drink and noted the look on Lexa’s face. “What’s wrong?”

She turned to look before her companion could answer and her mouth dropped open at the image. Someone had crudely drawn a stick figure cartoon on a small mirror. A man and a woman were shown with the woman’s mouth open and the words “blah blah blah” written beside her. The panel was labeled “Problem”. The next panel, titled “Solution”, had the woman on her knees with the man’s penis in her mouth.

“That’s…um…” Clarke stated, unsure of how to comment.

“Disgusting?” Lexa supplied.

The blonde, trying to keep a positive attitude about their situation, searched for a better word. “I mean, it’s accurate, in a way. It’s very difficult to speak with a dick in your mouth.”

It took all of Lexa’s self-control to not spit out the sip of beer she had just taken. “Clarke…”

“I’m sorry. I regretted it as soon as I said it,” she said, the wince on her face obvious. “I’m going to blame you for coming here.”

“Me?” Lexa asked incredulously while trying to keep her voice down. She didn’t want to offend the rough looking patrons.

“Yes. You’re the driver and you said you had veto power over all our stops. You should have used it,” Clarke explained.

The brunette opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted when the scent of body odor and alcohol filled the air around them when a man leaned against the bar right in-between Clarke and Lexa.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’ve never seen you around before.”

Lexa startled at how her personal space was suddenly violated. She was even more shocked to see that the man was addressing her instead of Clarke. He was only a few inches taller than the brunette, with a beard that needed shaving a few days ago and what little hair he had left on his head needed to be washed badly. Lexa wasn’t sure if she gave off an obvious gay vibe, because men hardly ever approached her; so when it happened, such as in that moment, she was quite surprised.

Clarke, however, wasn’t too startled to speak. “Excuse me, we were talking here.”

The man looked over his shoulder at the blonde and immediately dismissed her and addressed Lexa again. “What brings you to our town? Just passing through?”

The mechanic finally came back to herself. “Ah, yes. So if you don’t mind, my friend and I would like to eat in peace and be on our way.”

“Oh, come on, beautiful, what’s the rush? I could show you a good time.”

“Doubtful,” Clarke declared. The man ignored her.

“Ditch your friend and I can show you how much fun I can be.”

Lexa opened her mouth to be more forceful in her rejection, but Clarke beat her to it.

“Look, asshole, she said to leave her alone. What part of that don’t you understand?”

That got the drunk’s attention and he turned to face the blonde. “What did you just say to me, bitch?”

“Hey!” Lexa said, standing, but before she could utter another word, Clarke grabbed her bloody Mary and threw it in the man’s face.

Shock overtook the man, who sputtered and wiped the vodka and tomato juice from his eyes. Lexa couldn’t see the man’s face, but all she needed was the sudden fear that took over Clarke’s features to know that she needed to act fast. The man had barely been able to grab Clarke’s upper arm before Lexa grasped his free wrist and twisted so hard that he cried out and let go of Clarke. Lexa placed her hand on the back of his balding head and slammed it on the bar.

“Ah!” he yelled out. “Let go of me, you stupid dyke!”

“You may want to rethink your actions,” Lexa growled so dangerously that the entire bar, now silent, could hear her. “I’m going to let you go and you’re going to walk away. Do you understand me?”

“Let go, slut!” he replied, struggling against the vice-like grip. Lexa adjusted her hold, making the man whimper. “Fine! Yes.”

Lexa released him and took a step back. The glare he gave her was murderous.

Spittle flew from his lips as he spat his words. “You’re going to regret that, dyke.”

Lexa dismissed with one raised eyebrow and turned her attention to Clarke. “You okay?” She received a nod in return. “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

The brunette turned to leave some cash on the bar for their drinks, but before she could turn back around to leave the bar, she heard a scuffle behind her and then a sickening crunch followed by a cry of agony. Lexa whipped her head around and green eyes went wide at the site of Clarke standing over the drunk man, blood gushing from his nose and his hands on his face and between his legs. It took a few seconds before Lexa saw the splotches of blood on the knees of Clarke’s jeans for her to deduce that the blonde hand kicked the man in the balls and then broke his nose with her knee.

“What the fuck, Clarke?” Lexa demanded.

Breathing heavy from the tussle, Clarke gave her answer. “The fucking coward was going to attack you with your back turned.”

“Fuck. We have to get out of here,” Lexa stated.

She grabbed Clarke’s hand and pulled them out of the bar. They had almost made it to the Nova when the sound of sirens pierced the air with red and blue lights whirling from the top of a car with the words “SHERIFF” written on the side. After the cop car skidded to a stop in front of Lexa’s car, a short and slightly heavy set woman in a khaki uniform stepped out with her weapon drawn.

“Police! Hands on the vehicle!”

Clarke and Lexa immediately complied, both shaking. The woman approached them and holstered her weapon to pat them down.

“Sheriff, there’s been a misunderstanding,” Clarke attempted to say.

“I got a call that two out of towners assaulted a Dave Paxton at Proky’s,” the woman replied.

Lexa felt the woman feel her ankles for any weapons. “He laid his hands on us first. We were just defending ourselves.”

The officer gripped Lexa’s arm and turned her around. “That’s not what the person who tipped me said.”

Clarke was going to argue, but then she noticed the nametag on the woman’s chest. Diane Paxton. _Fuck_ the blonde thought.

“Let’s go. We’re going down to the station.”

Lexa opened her mouth to argue, but Clarke stopped her. “Shut up, Lexa.”

The brunette listened and slammed her jaw shut. And that’s how the two women found themselves in the back of the sheriff’s cruiser, handcuffs digging uncomfortably into their wrists. The woman left them there and went inside Proky’s to get a statement and check on the injured man.

“Why did you silence me, Clarke? Surely she would understand. A drunk man hitting on two young women at a bar? Crazier things have happened,” Lexa asked while they were alone.

“She said his name was Paxton. That’s hers as well. We just assaulted her brother or husband or something,” Clarke replied.

Lexa glared at the blonde. “ _We_ didn’t do anything. My move will not leave a mark on him. You, however, just had to break his damn nose while we aren’t injured at all. We have nothing to back up our story, unless someone in there decides to be honest which I doubt will happen.”

Clarke blinked incredulously at the woman sitting next to her. “Wait a minute, you’re angry with me?” Lexa’s stony silence and refusal to meet Clarke’s eyes was all the answer she needed. “Oh, that is such bullshit, Lexa. I didn’t—”

She was interrupted by the door of the cruiser opening as the sheriff sat down in the driver’s seat. Nothing else was said as they drove towards the police station.

 

* * *

 

  
“What did you do with my car?”

“It’s taken care of,” came the sheriff’s answer from behind her computer.

Lexa scoffed in disbelief and went back to pacing. To call the police station a station was almost a joke. It was a two room building, one room for weapons and evidence, which was also connected to the one stall bathroom, and the other room had two desks and a single jail cell. Clarke thought only these kinds of cells existed in TV shows, but here she was sitting inside of one.

They had been in the cell for ten hours, according to the clock on the wall, making it about two in the morning. Clarke had never been more bored in her life. When asked for their one phone call each, the woman laughed and said that only applies when you’re charged for a crime. So far, they haven’t been charged with anything.

“Then you can’t keep us here!” Lexa argued, the fury pouring off of her.

The Sheriff smirked. “I can keep you here for twenty four hours. So you’ll just have to sit tight then, won’t you?”

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a woman, you know that?” Clarke snarled.

The Sheriff didn’t respond, but went onto her computer and barely spoke another word to them.

Lexa still hadn’t spoken to Clarke or even looked at her. The blonde could not believe how the mechanic was angry with her when she had saved her from being attacked from behind, but she couldn’t discuss it with the cop listening to every word.

Eventually, between the _clacking_ of the keyboard and Lexa’s furious pacing, Clarke fell in and out of sleep on the metal bench in the cell. She was startled when the crackling of a voice on the Sheriff’s radio informed them that there was a 10-82 in progress on Jefferson Road.

With an annoyed grumble, the Sheriff put her hat on and grabbed her weapon, then left the building without a word to either of the inmates.

“How the fuck are we going to get out of this?” Clarke asked as soon as the door closed. When she didn’t receive the response she was expecting, she stood to force the brunette to look at her. “I can’t believe you’re angry with me. I saved you from being seriously hurt by that asshole.”

“I wouldn’t have needed saving if it weren’t for you!” Lexa exploded.

Clarke startled slightly at how loud Lexa spoke, but quickly recovered. “What are you talking about? He wasn’t leaving you alone, so I stepped in to help. It’s what any woman—well, any decent woman—would do.”

“You didn’t step in to deescalate the problem, Clarke,” was Lexa’s reply. “You threw your drink in the man’s face the first chance you got.”

“He called me a bitch.”

“So you decide to piss off a drunk man who already wasn’t taking rejection well? We could be out of Wyoming by now, but no. You had to play the righteous savior and now we’re in a jail cell,” Lexa fumed. “I’m pretty sure this was one of my stipulations on this adventure I stupidly agreed to.”

“I doubt that asshole is going to press charges. He’d have to publically admit that two girls kicked his ass.”

Lexa glared at the blonde. “You don’t know that, Clarke.”

Blue eyes looked away first as Clarke ran her fingers through her hair. “So, what do you want to do?”

“We can’t do anything until the twenty four hours are up. If she hasn’t charged us with anything, she’ll have to let us go. If she charges us, we’ll get our phone call.”

Clarke sat back down, arms crossed and a scowl shadowing her features. “So, we wait?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” the blonde conceded. “But don’t for a second think that I agree you have a right to be angry. I don’t regret what I did. He deserved that and much more.”

“Well, we don’t deserve to go to jail and yet here we are.”

Neither of them spoke again, not even when the Sheriff returned three hours later.

 

* * *

 

 

Day 4: Rock Springs, WY

There was ten minutes left of the twenty four hour time limit. Clarke and Lexa had, without any explanation, been handcuffed and put in the back of the police cruiser. The Sheriff didn’t say a word, refusing to answer any of their questions as to where they were going. The woman, after driving passed the sign welcoming people to Rock Springs, pulled to the side of the road and stopped.

Clarke’s stomach churned nervously when the woman instructed them to get out of the car and lean against the side of the vehicle.

“What is going on?” Lexa demanded.

“Good news for you, girlies. Dave decided not to press charges,” the Sheriff answered. She unlocked the restraints.

Lexa and Clarke turned to look at the woman whose face gave away none of her emotions or thoughts.

Clarke rubbed her sore wrists. “So, we’re free to go?”

“Yes, but if I ever catch you in my town again, you’ll find that your next stay will be much more unpleasant.”

Lexa scoffed. “Yes, because the Queen of England is envious of your hospitable attitude. Where’s my car?”

The Sheriff pointed to a black car about a half a mile away. “Just outside the city limits.”

“See you never,” Clarke said and the two of them began walking without another word.

The tense silence that permeated the jail cell didn’t let up in the warm Wyoming air. Neither woman was willing to budge on who was in the wrong. However, once they reached the car, the silence turned from one of anger to one of shock.

Clarke’s gut twisted so painfully she nearly doubled over. The Sheriff hadn’t been lying; Lexa’s car certainly had been taken care of.

What was once a beautiful, glossy black muscle car was now absolutely trashed. Neon green spray paint read words like “dyke” and “bitch” over the doors and hood. It had obviously been keyed in several places and both headlights look like they had been taken out with a bat. The leather interior inside the vehicle looked like someone had taken a knife and ripped into it, the stuffing visible in several places.

Lexa was absolutely speechless and Clarke had no idea what to do. Lexa loved her car, it was her baby. Clarke knew she had spent years and poured thousands of dollars into it.

“Lexa,” she whispered, but didn’t say anything else.

“Don’t,” the mechanic stated, her voice hoarse from suppressing the emotions threatening to well up. “Just get in.”

Clarke, guilt consuming every inch of her, followed Lexa’s near plea. She heard the brunette give a sigh of relief when the car started and they drove off, leaving Rock Springs far behind them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Jail-House Blues" by Bessie Smith
> 
> Other Songs for this chapter:  
> "No Good" by Kaleo  
> "Black Betty" by The Ram Jam
> 
> Tumblr link: [the-gayest-pathfinder](http://the-gayest-pathfinder.tumblr.com/)


	6. Author's note

Hey everyone,

I'm sorry I've been so absent in all my updates (it's not just this story I'm neglecting). I am from the US and in less than 2 months I will be leaving to move to Ireland for a year for graduate school. I have been frantically running around these last few months getting ready while working as much as possible to save up for the year. I have no idea what my schedule will be like during the school year, but I imagine it will be very busy. If I get a chance to update Got A Real Good Feeling, I of course will. Thank you to every single one of my readers and to everyone who has commented or left a kudos. It really does warm my heart to know that some people like my writing. Got A Real Good Feeling has been the most fun I've had writing a fic and I've had a blast having such a playful story. This won't be the last you hear of our road trip lovers. 

Cheers!

just.a.pleb.les

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr link: [the-gayest-pathfinder](http://the-gayest-pathfinder.tumblr.com/)


End file.
